A Second First Date
by Mosshh
Summary: Doctor and director of a medical research team at Brown University, Quinn Fabray finds herself once again at the type of corporate event she hates. However, the evening is somewhat lifted by the presence of Rachel Berry, a private psychiatrist with her own medical practise. The winner of a prestigious competition is soon to be announced but the result could be an omen in disguise.


**It has been a while! A lot has happened, lots of changes to life itself, but I am back for a little while and this is my most recent endeavor. This can be a stand alone fic but I am hoping (fingers crossed) to get out at least one more chapter to round everything off and not leave people hanging!**

**All mistakes are my own and of which can only be apologised for, additionally the character of 'Miles' is all mine.**

**It has been a while so any feedback would be hugely appreciated, but for now just enjoy the story! (:**

* * *

**A Second First Date**

The sudden introduction of what seemed to be a thousand mini lights left Quinn momentarily blinded. Normally she wouldn't notice, but for once she was thankful for the strong grip of her co-worker Miles whose right arm was looped through her left. As the dazzling stars before her eyes faded, a mere light studded ceiling lay in their wake. Gazing from left to right Quinn tried to take the enormous city hall in. Never had it been dressed and tailored in such a glamorous yet sophisticated array of colours. In the few gaps that penguin-colour clad men and women with the grace of gazelles were not, hung curtains of rich vermillion, draped against pristine walls as black as the sky outside.

So preoccupied was Quinn that she ceased to realise she had now been confronted with her seat. Startled back to reality by the sudden lack of warmth and security from her arm she was faced with a beaming Miles, hands on the back of a chair, gesturing for her to sit. Smiling apologetically still not having said a word Quinn took the seat and simply nodded her thanks to Miles.

Most men would find it quite an insult to not be spoken to by the person accompanying them to such an important event, but then, Miles was not most men, although in looks, maybe. Was he tall, yes; was he handsome, yes, was he a man in every sense of the word, well, yes, but having come accustomed to Quinn's manner of being, lack of speaking for hours, sometimes days on end and strange eccentricities that would creep out the average human being, Miles was not at all offended nor even the slightest bit phased by the fact that Quinn had not actually acknowledged his presence since the start of the evening two hours previously. In fact, he hadn't even noticed.

The low rumble of chatter reverberated off the normally naked walls and filled the room in a way no amount of furniture could. It danced over the white clothed tables, tiptoed through the legs of the ornate wooden chairs, and even skipped delicately over the silverware before sliding carefully down the shiny spoon greeting Quinn's fingers with a sweet 'hello' reminding her that she was not alone. Quinn ceased adjusting her hair and quickly lay the spoon silently to rest, her eyes darting left and right in hope that nobody had caught her.

A sigh of relief filled her lungs as soon as she was sure nobody had noticed, she couldn't have people thinking she were vain. But perhaps better to think that than try explaining the embarrassing story of falling asleep forty minutes before needing to leave for her company's biggest event on the calendar. She had awoken to Miles pounding on her front door and yelling through the letterbox. In the space of two minutes she had grabbed the first evening gown her hand touched the moment it entered her closet without a thought to colour and which shoes that may or may not match. Questions had pummelled the inside of her head like a battering ram to an iron gate. Clutch or handbag? Flats or heels? Hair up or down?

In the few frantic minutes that Quinn spent crashing about under the pseudonym 'getting ready', Miles' confusion became paramount. Fuelled by subdued panic that something sinister had happened to Quinn he fumbled for his key and let himself into the house, a lump in his throat and prepared for the worse. All fears, all be them false, were lay to rest as soon as he had stumbled over the threshold.

There before him stood the exact reason that science both fascinated and baffled him. For once, just as speechless as the girl he was gazing upon, he stood, mouth open, gaping at Quinn. Although insanely intelligent Miles found it incredibly hard to comprehend that a few measly codes, amino acids and an almost infinitely long string of DNA was solely responsible for sheer beauty that radiated from Quinn's every pore. Nobody, not even his high school professor, who was as rich as the day was long, could have paid him enough money to believe that Quinn had been asleep right up until the moment his knuckles had made contact with the door.

Miles' mind chugged along painfully slowly. He longed for nothing more than for his brain to catch up with the muscles responsible for closing his mouth and forming intellectual and coherent words. He wanted to tell Quinn that she looked stunning and to reassure her that his uncharacteristic momentary silence was a good sign, and that he was simply too afraid to speak in case a splurge of sound emerged from his mouth rather than a praising compliment. But remembering that their friendship functioned in an abundantly different way to any friendship he'd had before, he simply forced his mouth shut along with all complimentary thoughts to the back of his mind, took a step forward and greeted Quinn with a peck on the cheek as if nothing about the evening so far had been out of the ordinary.

"The cab is outside, but don't worry," Miles added hastily as he took in Quinn's worried expression, "You've still got a few minutes for some last minute touch ups if that's what you need," he smiled.

Quinn nodded. She didn't know why she became so quiet at the most crucial of times or events. This, the biggest event of her career, could decide whether her future turned left or right at the fork in the road. Using her voice could only promote the chances of her medical team's success and yet it was lost in a cloud of worry floating away along with her hopes of winning. She knew winning wasn't everything, there was much more to life and although she'd love nothing more than to win, if Quinn knew that somebody else deserved it more, or had worked harder or would simply be happier on achieving such an honourable prize, she would happily give it away with a blink of an eye.

Quinn's eyes flickered once more allowing for her to survey her reflection in the warped metal corner of a picture frame hanging directly in front of the mirror of the opposing wall. Why she didn't use the mirror, nobody will ever know, but perhaps fate is such a thing. For if she had used the mirror, her cropped bob length, shaggy blonde mane of hair may have looked less wild which would have ceased the need for reassurance of her appearance in a another reflective item, this time taking the form of a spoon; and would have never bore the question from an eager voice the opposite side of the table offering her a compact mirror. It turns out that Quinn's sigh of relief was redundant and lay lost in her chest never to be exhaled as a brunette girl, not much older than Quinn herself, had in fact noticed her not so inconspicuous attempts at flattening her wild locks in the back of a spoon.

"Don't try and tame what can't be." The brunette girl now admiring Quinn had to half shout these words over the table to due to the bubbling noise of a dozen other conversations going on each at their own varied volumes. "It's different," the girl added, "but pretty," slightly nervous she might have offended the girl whom she'd never met before, "Unlike me you've made a bold move to be yourself; to be natural," she paused unsure as to whether continue or not due to Quinn's continued silence, "I followed the crowd of sleek and sophisticated." The girl ran a hand through her own hair which had been carefully gripped to one side draping over her shoulder like a curtain of liquid chocolate.

Quinn pursued her peace although burning with embarrassment inside, never had she been complimented like that before. It was genuine, sweet, and honest even, and that's what Quinn liked more than anything else: honesty.

"Sorry, I have no right to make such remarks, I don't even know your name," the girl laughed shyly, "I just," she hesitated, the words she wanted to say dancing tentatively on the tip of her tongue. Quinn gripped the edge of her seat tightly, her knuckles turning a paler white than that of the cloth sprawled neatly across the table. How could she urge the girl to finish her sentence without influencing her? She wanted the words to come from the heart, not to be what the girl thought Quinn wanted to hear.

Luckily however, Quinn didn't have to, the brunette girl didn't seem to be able to hold her tongue any more than Quinn could stay quiet out of honest curiosity.

"I just think you are more than," the girl swallowed, "more than very attractive if I'm honest," her voice dipped and quietened slightly. "I'm Ms Berry by the way, Ms Rachel Berry," she added somewhat more loudly, almost as if this extra information was an afterthought to try and distract from the prior words she had uttered.

Rachel's words hung in the air for a fraction of a second, floating in space unsure of their destination, then suddenly Quinn inhaled sharply taking all of the words with her which ignited an ebbing glow at the pit of her stomach that lasted for the rest of the evening.

"Ms Quinn Fabray," Quinn replied, "And thank-you, that was very sweet of you to say so. Honesty is a treasured thing and in my experience people don't use the trait enough."

Relieved that Rachel had not made a fool of herself, she sent a wide toothed smile across the table to Quinn and quickly scanned the room, gaging inspiration for a more natural conversation topic. Finally, after only a moments gazing, the most obvious topic of discussion came to mind.

"So what brings you here? Are you part of the competition? A guest of someone who is maybe?" Rachel started to clutch at straws worrying that Quinn wouldn't reply again judging by her slightly dazed expression.

Quinn who had completely zoned out for a second, lost in the melody of the graceful tunes bouncing off of the walls hadn't in fact heard Rachel's question. Deeming it too rude, not to mention embarrassing, to admit she hadn't been fully concentrating, Quinn crossed her fingers under the table and shot back a reply hoping for the best that it made sense within the context of what Rachel had been asking.

"I'm a doctor and am director of the medical research team at Brown University responsible for the investigations into the recently discovered 'super cell."

Quinn never got to find out whether she had actually answered Rachel's question or not because the girl herself was far too excited over the information Quinn had just given her. Thankful that this was the case, Quinn couldn't understand what was so fascinating about her field of work. Everybody under the roof of the city hall had the same thing in common, they were all working within the field of science, and Quinn was just another one of these people with perhaps a slightly different qualification.

"That's, wow, that's just, that's just amazing!" Rachel exclaimed stumbling over her words and clapping a hand to her mouth, almost as if she still couldn't believe what she had been told. "I've read every article your team has printed, even at the beginning when it was touch and go and the University were thinking of stopping all of your funding. I never doubted you though," Rachel added quickly, careful not to offend Quinn, "Not you personally of course because I only knew you as Dr Fabray, I honestly thought you were a man, but your persistence to prove those around you wrong is clearly a feminine trait that I should have acknowledged from the start. Oh, what was I saying?" Rachel's cheeks were tinged with magenta streaks, she knew she should stop talking, her brain was yelling at her to stop and yet she just could not help herself, "Oh that was it, I didn't doubt your team at all, I always knew you'd pull through, funding or no funding, the passion behind your discoveries, the words you used to describe your findings, it was mind-blowing and a very very good bed time read." Rachel finally came to a finish.

All through the conversation Quinn had sat stoically silent. On occasions her urge to interrupt was paramount, but she had bit her tongue and forced the thoughts away. Quinn had never known anybody to talk so much, no more than a couple of minutes could have passed since Rachel had first caught her examining her reflection in a spoon. The blonde cringed at the thought and screwed her eyes up.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, "I'm sorry, I'm my own worst enemy, I just don't know when to shut up, although judging by your pained expression this must be the first time I've caused physical damage to someone _just_ by just talking."

Quinn stared at Rachel, something about her was like nothing she had ever experienced in another person before. Honest, she was that for sure, but even about the bad things, the things most people don't normally admit to.

A hushed, "Sorry," came from the direction of Rachel before she buried her face deep into her handbag searching for something she may or may not have needed.

"You just can't stop yourself can you," Quinn found herself voicing, a coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Rachel's head ceased moving and retreated a few centimetres out of her bag as if willing Quinn to continue.

"I find it flattering that you talk and think so highly of mine and my team's work. It is attitudes and support like yours that allowed our work to continue," Quinn spoke again, "Thank-you."

It was these words that forced Rachel's head to completely resurface from her bag. Her rich chestnut eyes glittered in reflecting the many hundreds of lights that showered the room, something Quinn hadn't noticed before. Something else completely oblivious to Quinn until now, was just how pretty Rachel actually was.

As the brunette girl appeared to readjust her head securely onto her shoulders, scooping back into place the few lose strands of hair that had flailed helplessly around her face, Quinn began to notice more and more things that simply made Rachel, radiant. Her smooth, olive graced skin captured every elegant angle that Rachel possessed. Her sapphire satin gown draped beautifully on the points of her neatly sculpted shoulders and flowed down to the floor, fitting Rachel's every curve snuggly and securely.

Quinn was almost certain that the only purpose of the delicate, elongated V shape front was to accentuate the mystery of no doubt flawless breasts concealed either side of the silky fabric. Forcing her eyes upwards, she was met with Rachel's stare, to Quinn's pleasure she was smiling once more.

"I'll try my utmost best to contain my excitement to be associated on the same table as you for the duration of the evening," Rachel said before adding, "If you still wish to sit here that is, I understand if you and your plus one want to sit with other, less annoying people…" Rachel's voice died off and her eyes widened, "He is your plus one isn't he, oh my God Rachel stop talking, you're going to offend everybody," she scalded herself, "I just mean that," Rachel tried to rectify herself without digging a deeper hole, "I just mean that _you_ could be _his_ plus one or you _both_ could have been invited and decided to go together and neither bring a plus one, I am so sorry, I just assumed that because you're a…"

"Shhh," Quinn giggled somewhat childishly, "Calm down, Miles," Quinn pointed to the handsome man sitting next to her deep in conversation with another rather dapper looking man to his right, "and I did come together but he is no more a scientist than I attain both an X and a Y chromosome," she concluded, "just stop worrying about putting your foot in it, rather for you to do that than hold back on what you really mean and then we never really would get anywhere, would we?" Quinn smiled encouragingly.

Rachel sighed, "I suppose not, but I am sorry. I talk too much when I'm nervous."

Quinn chuckled, "Just when you're nervous?" she questioned jokingly and both girls fell into a fit of laughter. "Anyway," Quinn gestured towards Miles again, "Scientist or not, he seems to have made friends and is quite happy, so it seems silly to uproot and move him for the sake of a girl who may or may not talk too much when she both is and isn't excited, don't you think?"

Rachel didn't think twice and solely nodded, the first time she had responded wordlessly, with an appreciative smile plastered across her face.

* * *

Another twenty minutes or so passed with the two girls exchanging conversation comfortably. The longer the conversation went on, the more balanced the ratio became of how much Rachel was talking in comparison to Quinn. Just before the hall was completely full and the evening officially got under way, Rachel rather shyly asked Quinn if she wanted to fill the empty seat next to her as her 'plus one' was nowhere to be seen. After distracting Miles' attention from an elegant fair-haired girl on the table behind them, she asked him would he mind if she sat next to Rachel. At first he seemed taken aback but then smiled, his eyes crinkling sweetly as he did so, before leaning forward and leaving Quinn a feather light kiss on her cheek whispering that she was being silly and didn't even need to have asked.

Not long after Quinn settled herself into the chair next to Rachel the lights dimmed and a tall, elderly man dressed head to toe in a bottle green tuxedo took to the small stage at the front of the hall. A round of rapturous applause met his presence on the stage and Quinn suddenly realised that it was Dr Douglas Kensington, Nobel prize winner and the Head of the Committee responsible for deciding who tonight's competition winner would be. Rachel obviously realised too and seemed just as excited by this as she was by meeting Quinn for the first time, she was positively bouncing in her seat and in the next moment Quinn felt a soft warm embrace on top of her hand. It was Rachel's.

In the brunettes sheer excitement she had grabbed the closest thing possible to stop herself from what Quinn assumed could possibly be screaming praise towards the man on stage, it just so happened to also be Quinn's hand. A moment later and Rachel must have realised what she'd done because she tore her gaze from the front of the hall to face Quinn. Horror struck was the only word to describe Rachel's expression. Quinn could tell that her brain was telling her to apologise and move it before disaster struck, but she held her ground. She looked down at their hands then back up at Quinn whose eyes twinkled with golden flecks like that of autumn leaves. She held the blondes gaze for only a fragment of a second she began to move her hand away voicelessly, ashamed of herself.

Just as Rachel's hand was no longer making contact with Quinn and she was making what felt like the longest movement ever to replace her hand back on her own lap, she felt something connect with her skin again. Positively convinced she was imagining things, she whipped her head back around so fast Quinn was surprised her head didn't just roll off her shoulders. There, grappling with the brunette's wrist was Quinn's hand crawling its way back to Rachel's. Although Quinn broke eye contact and pretended to look to the stage once more, she carefully entwined her fingers with Rachel's, basking in the warm electricity that was buzzing in the tips of her fingers, shooting euphoric fuzzy jolts to every inch of her being.

As time wore on Quinn became less and less focussed on Dr Kensington and his speech albeit very important and directly significant to the near future of her career, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to do so when she could feel soft lazy circles being doodled on her wrist and forearm. Rachel, who had downright given up with trying to pay attention, was resting her head on the table oblivious to if there were onlookers or not, studying Quinn's every feature and shift in position. On occasion Quinn would chance a glance at Rachel hoping not to be spotted, but on every single occasion she was caught red handed by Rachel meeting her gaze.

After what felt like hours of monotonous speeches given not only by Dr Kensington but other significant others in related fields of expertise. When the words, "Now everybody, please enjoy your drinks, the winner will be announced soon and then the first course shall proceed directly afterwards!" were uttered, Quinn had never felt happier to hear the end of DNA replica this, Super Cell something that.

"Drink?" Rachel asked lifting her head from the table and nodding at the growing crowd the opposite side of the room.

"Sure," Quinn replied, "But let me," and with those final words she rose from her seat and swept across the room and became quickly submerged in a crowd of people.

As she neared the bar her heart pounded faster in her chest. It had been an incredibly long time since she had felt like this. Her defences were usually on high alert at such prestigious events. Never befriend anyone just in case they want in in what you have. Always be on your guard. The advice of her father, the _only_ good advice he had ever given her. The only thing she will ever remember of him.

Seconds later she was face to face with the bartender, she ordered her drinks and waited, drumming her nails on the wooden surface, trying to steer clear from her thoughts worried she may overthink if succumbed to them. Almost as if he'd read her mind, Miles spoke from behind her.

"She seems nice," he encouraged, signalling down the bartender himself. When he realised Quinn wasn't going to reply he spoke again, "Just don't think too much okay, you're smart, more than smart, trust your instincts, if she says things that make you suspect then just make your excuses, grab me and we'll leave."

Quinn took her drinks and turned to Miles, "I am doing the right thing aren't I?"

Miles sensed the wobble in her voice, put both hands on her shoulder and pulled her into a brief embrace, "Honey," he chuckled, "If you don't know if you're doing right, the rest of us are doomed. Every day you make calls that determine the knowledge our future, you make split second decisions that could change the way we look at life, you have to be nothing but open minded and focussed," he paused, "Every day you have to make the hardest decision of all; you have to make the decision to be honest about what you do and where it will get you, where it'll get us, seconds away from international embarrassment if you've made a tiny mistake. If you can't make the simple decision of whether or not to follow your heart, then I can't help you. You surround yourself by challenges of the mind every day, take a break, have a rest, and follow a different path." Miles pulled out of the embrace and connected eye line with Quinn, "Find happiness." Next moment he was gone, lost in the crowd, a drink in both hand.

Taking a deep breath Quinn nodded to herself. She spent her whole life thinking and double checking, taking one night off would not hurt, and although tonight _was_ about her work, her career, unless her research team won it wouldn't matter anyway and an evening of possible fun would have been squandered. Rarely did she get the chance to do anything but work and study. The effort put into the research and project would feel like a massive waste, resources, all redundant, but you win some, you lose some. No doubt whoever did win would deserve it more, Quinn thought to herself.

"That was quick," Rachel said accepting her drink from Quinn and taking a sip through a pink straw. "Mmm, that's good. What is it?" She asked licking her lips to savour the flavour.

Quinn stared dumbfounded at Rachel, "That's a very good question, I asked the man at the bar to give me the same as what the previous person had had."

Rachel looked impressed, "Risky, I like it. I'm more of a set routine person myself, same drink, same cup, same amounts. Just safer that way," she explained taking another sip so nearly half of her glass was gone.

Quinn was glad she was enjoying it and took a sip herself and found that she was pleasantly surprised with the result. The taste of alcohol was potent but the cleverly marked in a vast array of flavours that it almost could pass as a child's fruit cocktail. Putting her drink on the table she turned to Rachel again, this was her night, no regrets, as Miles had said, any sign of trouble just make your excuses. Simple.

"So you know a little about me, well, if you have really read all of my articles, quite a lot actually," Quinn said embarrassedly, "But I know nothing about you," she hurried on, "Enlighten me with your knowledge."

"I'm a private Psychiatrist with my own medical practise," Rachel explained as she tugged on the straw with her teeth and finishing the remains of her drink in one large gulp.

Rachel could have said anything in the world and that still a private psychiatrist would not have been on the list of what Quinn thought she might have been. A lecturer yes, a doctor yes; a specialist even, but Quinn constantly forgot the fact that psychology was a massive part of science and was too like her own work, responsible for an awful lot of very important discoveries, making it just as a valid of reason to be in the same hall space that she was currently occupying. It fascinated Quinn, she'd never spoken to someone who dealt with the other side of science, the darker side.

"Many people argue that Psychology isn't even a science but…"

"I disagree," Quinn blurted out shocked at her sudden outburst. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Rachel beamed, "Finally some fire and fury from the lion herself, good for you!"

The blush that Quinn's cheeks had been dipped in subsided, "But I'm impressed. Your own private practise, wow, I mean the possibilities are endless with the kind of work you could carry out."

"You have your own research lab at the best of the best universities," Rachel exclaimed almost knocking over her empty glass in sheer excitement.

"Yes, it's my lab whilst I'm in there, it can be my lab for months, sometimes years at a time but it still belongs to the University and confidentiality can often be an issue with students overseeing projects and trying to interfere. Also all of the research conducted has to be relayed to the University Medical Board on a regular, usually monthly, basis, just to show that we are making progress and their resources aren't being wasted. Thankfully we've never had a problem, but it always is a concern planted in the back of your mind."

Rachel nodded, "Yes I can imagine that'd be a major worry, I completely understand where you're coming from. I come and go as I please and my research is my employee's and I's resources, I've never considered for it ever to be a problem for anyone else, but now that you mention it, it must be very hard, always being watched over. I couldn't work like that."

Quinn was very glad that Rachel understood and the small spark of a connection between them suddenly formed a stronger sort of rope that had been wrapped around the pair and tied in a knot. It was something that would stretch and be pulled to its limits, but Quinn was pretty sure that it would hold for a very long time, leaving her feeling comfortable and safe.

And so the conversation continued and carried them on a good few drinks before Rachel, slurring her words slightly, started to steer the conversation away from a topic that most people would fall asleep over.

"From personal experience and genuine interest my team and I chose to focus our research on the topic of 'Growing Up Gay.' Having two dad's has caused a lot of questions for me over the years and I was fascinated by the idea of nature or nurture. Many people believe it's a choice, which is just crap," she banged her fist on the table clearly wound up by the assumption she had just voiced. "It's just, why would anybody chose a life more difficult for themselves, choose to be an outcast in most communities worldwide, it's crazy and just doesn't make sense."

Quinn hung on Rachel's every word agreeing with everything she said. Growing up in a family of strict Christian beliefs she had sadly been one of those people brainwashed into believing that being gay was a choice. As time wore on and years passed, Quinn grew to learn her own mind and opinions and stopped being influenced by her family completely. Perhaps it was this that fuelled her passion into science. The exact art of knowing what caused what or searching for evidence to prove a ten year hunch of other scientists. It was liberating, and Quinn loved it.

"Our most recent study involves twins, from birth, obviously their parents give consent, and we monitor their brain patterns on monthly and yearly bases. We believe that there is a 'gay gene' and this is what we are searching for in the infants. We've almost managed to prove the 'gay gene' in adolescent and adult twins. The brain patterns are slightly different and levels of specific hormones differ too. Monthly counselling sessions, personal information, sexual relationships, relationships with family members and things like that are all taken into account to build a bigger profile. It's a huge and incredibly long process but it's fascinating," Rachel explained seeming somewhat more sober than before, "Every day we get a little closer to providing justice for those discriminated against for something as trivial as sexual orientation."

Rachel felt a warmth embrace her hand for the third time that evening, "I think it's absolutely remarkable the passion you have for your research and I wish you every success with it. It will make an astounding difference to how whole populations of people view others," Quinn said consolingly.

"Thank-you," Rachel replied squeezing Quinn's hand before lifting it to her lips and placing a delicate kiss upon her porcelain white knuckles.

"This is why we'd love to win the competition, the grant money up as the prize would do wonders for the lengths our research could then go to. Our pitch wasn't the best but I do think we managed to put across the importance of our study and the influential effects it will have on a global scale. Hundreds of sleepless nights and endless hours of researching, studying, collecting data, questioning, probing and being yelled abuse has gone into our research. It would be wonderful for it all to finally pay off in a recognisable fashion, just to let people know the progress we're making and the good we're doing. We've put our all into it, we really do deserve it. I can't imagine how the team and I will feel if we fail. I'm here on all their behalves!" Rachel smiled as she finished talking an excited glow reached her eyes once more.

"You will keep your fingers crossed for me, won't you?" Rachel pleaded taking Quinn's hand in both of hers and in her tipsy state began trying to cross Quinn's fingers for her, giggling childishly at her feeble attempts.

The colour in Quinn's face started to drain leaving her a peaky pastel white. Rachel had been about to ask what she'd said wrong but at that exact moment Dr Kensington had taken to the stage once more. The competition. How had she forgotten?

She knew her team had had little chance with the lack of preparation for their presentation and the downright shambles of research they had recently pulled together, the whole truth of how their study was going was often skimmed over in their printed articles, and only the pure facts and little improvements were highlighted and raved about. Losing didn't matter to Quinn, more than anything she'd love to win but after being confronted by Rachel's lust for the grant money, she knew that nobody else deserved it more. She hadn't even had a chance to explain to Rachel that Quinn's research team was part of the competition.

Instead their conversations had been filled with boring anomalies in results, whether psychology was a real science or not and when they had finally exhausted the extensive science based topics they had genuine intellectual conversations about their lives, what they did in the little spare time they had, where they had travelled from, what family they had. Rachel learned that Quinn preferred a quiet life and hated the spot light, which as Rachel kindly explained for her, that that explained why Quinn didn't write her articles herself and was simply printed as the participating leader of the project. Rachel also learned that big corporate events like the one tonight was really not Quinn's cup of tea, hence she usually stuck painfully close to Miles and left before the night was over.

Quinn hadn't purposely avoided the topic of her presence at that evening's event, it just had never come up. And yet she couldn't shift the uncomfortably guilty feeling bubbling at the pit of her stomach for not making more of an effort to make Rachel realise that they were in fact, up against each other.

If Rachel _had_ known would she have continued to have sat with Quinn?

"Welcome again Ladies and Gentleman, Doctors and Medics," Dr Kensington greeted the crowd. There was a murmur of brief applause and cheers. "Now that you have all had a chance to relax I'm sure the anticipation of learning of the winner has only heightened." Another murmur amongst the crowd.

Rachel nudged Quinn, "Are you okay, you're as white as a sheet. Do you want some air?"

Air, Quinn thought to herself. If she could just get her head straight and calm down. It wasn't even a big deal, why was she working herself up over it. Neither of their teams could win and nothing would change. Quinn simply felt dishonest by not having had the chance to explain that it could come down to a head to head between their two areas of research.

"I don't mind missing the list of competitors, I already know who's competing, so long as we're back in time for the winner," Rachel whispered ecstatically.

Quinn's heart lifted slightly. Rachel already knew she that she may lose out to her team but before she could dwell on it anymore, Dr Kensington's booming voice invaded her thoughts, "And the nominees are…"

Suddenly everything made sense, Rachel only knew Quinn's research team by its professional name that didn't mention her anywhere in the title. She knew, but didn't all at the same time.

"We'll wipe the slate clean," Rachel leaned in and spoke in Quinn's ear.

"What do you?" Quinn looked panicked.

Rachel looked confused, "I just mean that as first dates go, this is pretty lousy, I've never seen anyone look more scared. I know I talk a lot but I've never scared anyone off before. We'll wipe the date-slate clean. Next time we meet, that'll be our first date. Our second first date," she smiled her eyes glimmering under the light flecked ceiling.

Quinn focussed on the thought of a second date with Rachel. If they could just get through tonight. "I can't wait," she mouthed almost silently, "I've never had a second first date before."

"Good, me too," Rachel replied and turned her gaze back to Doctor Kensington.

"And the winner is…" there was a dramatic pause in which the majority of the city hall held their breath. The only sound was of the bartenders chinking empties as they cleared the many tables.

Quinn no longer needed help to cross her fingers, she was mentally crossing every limb of her being, hoping against hope that Rachel's team had been successful. The time between Dr Kensington's introduction to the winner, and announcing the winner themselves felt like an age. Time drifted slowly by dancing happily in between everybody in the room mocking their impatience and laughing in their face. In fact only four exact seconds passed, yet it was the four longest seconds of both Quinn and Rachel's life.

"The research into Super Cellular Diagnostics and Revised DNA Replication put forward by Brown University."

A tumult of applause arose from the crowd. There was whooping and cheering as many audience members took to their feet. To Quinn's utter amazement Rachel was on her feet too pounding her hands together in a rapid round of applause staring at Dr Kensington.

"If Brown University's representative could please take to the stage to receive their prize!" Dr Kensington announced heartily.

Quinn's heart wedged itself in her throat as several things happened at once. The spotlight that had previously been focused on Dr Kensington was searching the room as if for a criminal evading a helicopter chase. At the same time Rachel's eyes, in her semi-drunken state, followed the light until finally it landed on Quinn and it was at that exact moment that realisation struck Rachel like lightening on a tree.

"Who is that?" Quinn could hear Dr Kensington saying not really focussing on anything, "Oh my, it's the girl herself, Dr Quinn Fabray ladies and gentleman!"

The applause that had never quite ceased reached a level of noisy breaking point but all Quinn could focus on was Rachel's face staring at her, mouth slightly open in shock with mahogany orbs forcing themselves to stay dry.

"There she is everybody!" Dr Kensington shouted as the spotlight finally found its way to Quinn, "Come up here Quinn, claim your prize!"

Quinn stood up and at the same time, so did Rachel.

"We said before we'd never had a second first date, looks like neither of us ever will," Rachel reached for her bag, "Go on," she urged trying to force a weak smile, "The crowd are waiting," she paused before turning away, "Best of luck in your research and," her voice broke, "and it was wonderful to meet you Doctor Fabray, a real pleasure."

Rachel turned on her heel and was immediately engulfed in the crowd all with their eyes directed at Quinn. She suddenly felt cold and violated. So many eyes fixed on her and yet she felt rooted to the floor. She was torn between wanting to run after Rachel and explain everything and going up to accept her prize for the pure fact of not wanting to cause a scene.

In the next moment she felt a tugging on her arm, she forced herself to turn unsure of how much time had passed and she was confronted with Miles. He took her hand, pulled her close and whispered, "I don't know what happened but we're getting out of here, they'll get over it he said," looking towards the crowd some of whom had got bored of waiting and had taken their seats once more.

Quinn felt herself guided from the dim room and out into the bright lights of the reception hall all the while wondering how on earth she'd get into contact with Rachel to explain everything. They'd set a time, a date and a place for their second first date, but Quinn was one hundred percent sure that that was never going to happen now. Deflated and empty Quinn allowed herself to be driven home by Miles, forcing all thoughts other than Rachel from her mind, wondering when and _if_ she would ever see the girl again.

* * *

**As stated before, this can be a stand alone fic but I'm quite invested in the interests of the characters in this story so I'm hoping to upload another chapter in the near future.**

**Until then however, thoughts? Liked it? Disliked it?**


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